Supernatural Imagines
by bandstiel
Summary: Just a bunch of imagines containing the characters of Supernatural. Requests are always open, but no smut. Thank you for reading! xo


**A/N: Again, I'd like to thank you for taking the time to read this. I hope you enjoy all these imagines!**

**Summary: Reader is eighteen and is going to get her anti-possession tattoo. Dean comforts the reader. **

* * *

Your leg nervous bounced against the floor of the Impala, absentmindedly biting your lip as you tried to take your mind off of what was about to happen. John and Dean were seated in front, the two men completely oblivious to your worry.

Today was your eighteen birthday. Even though you knew that it was coming up, you still had last minute butterflies over getting your anti-possession tattoo. In all honesty, you were surprised that John waited until you were an adult to get it done. You knew from asking Sam and Dean that they both had it done when they turned fifteen. The three of you eventually chalked it up to the fact that he didn't want to risk you going to the police and telling them you had been forced to get a tattoo.

Even though that was most likely the case, you still liked to think that it was because John was softening up. You had known him since you were six years old. He was the closest thing you knew to a father, after your own was murdered by a demon. You were potentially his last chance to not mess up the whole parenting thing.

"(Y/N). We're here."

You jumped in your seat, your gaze immediately snapping to the rearview mirror. You saw John's eyebrows raised as if he was trying to say, '_really? I scared you with that? Aren't you supposed to be a hunter?'_

"C'mon, kiddo," Dean swiftly opens up his door and opens yours. You climb out of the door, closing it behind you. You shield your eyes with your hand as you watch Dean close the passenger door. John doesn't even say goodbye before pulling out of the parking lot.

You sigh. Maybe he wasn't trying to be a better father.

Dean let a hand rest on your shoulder, gently massaging the muscles. "You're gonna be fine, trust me. It just hurts for a minute."

You snorted, allowing Dean to guide you inside the building. "That's a load of bull," you deadpan. "But I appreciate that you would lie for me."

Dean chuckles, letting his hand fall from your shoulder. "It hurts like a bitch for a while," he explained. "But eventually you get numb to it."

"Lovely."

The two of you are greeted by a worker; a pretty red head with colorful tattoos swirling up her left arm. She gives you a strange look when you show her a photo of what you want, but she still agrees to do the job.

She gets you prepped at a chair and is just about to start the process when you suddenly freeze up. You don't want to do this.

"D-Dean," you choke out, your hand gripping his tightly. The women takes the instrument away, giving your arm a slight rub. She tells you to call her back when you're ready.

Dean is there in an instant, pressing chaste kisses to your head and promising it would all blow over soon. He said he could barely remember his, which proved it wasn't too painful. You roll your eyes and remind him that he got his tattoo five years ago.

He frowns. "Fine. Alright, listen, okay? You are tough as hell. You fight monsters. You can fuckin' do this, got it?" He presses another kiss to your forehead, almost like a confirmation to his short speech.

"Okay," you said slowly. "Okay. I can do this." You took several deep breaths before calling the women back in.

"All set?"

You nod back, steeling yourself. How bad can it be?

It feels like your skin is on fire. You don't jerk away, thank God, but you squeeze Dean's hand. He whimpers slightly, but you could care less. He wasn't the one getting a needle stabbed into his arm.

The rest of the process didn't go much better. You kept a tight grip on Dean's hand. When it's finally over, you notice your nails had broken the skin and there was bloody half-moon crescents on his skin. The fact that Dean was there made it much more bare able, though. He whispered comforts into your ear, which you tried your best to focus on. You certainly had a new respect for people with tattoos.

"Alright," the women said, punching numbers into the register. "That'll be 78 dollars, please."

You handed over the money. The lady smiled at the two of you, her eyes glancing down to see Dean and your hands interlocked.

You were just about to walk outside when you heard her voice calling you back in.

"Um, I hate to be rude, but, uh," she blushed, brushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. "You two would make a really cute couple. Just with the way he was comforting you..." she trailed off, leaning her elbows on the desk and perching her chin in her hands. "I wish my boyfriend would do that."

You give the woman a smile and wave goodbye before being- literally -pulled out of the door by Dean.

Without wasting any time, he pushed you against the wall and kissed you.

Your entire body was on fire again, but for a completely different reason. Your nerves felt like they were going to explode. It wasn't anything like you could have imagined; there were no fireworks or any of the cliche sayings. Instead, it felt right. You might have felt like you were going to explode, but as your arms wrapped around Dean's neck and his hand rested at your hips, you knew that this was how it was meant to be.


End file.
